mannequin magic
by passionpit
Summary: it's another fight, but with a whole new outcome. rated m for language, and possibly later chapters.


_Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, shit!_

This is bad! This is really, really bad! What the hell am I supposed to do?

I didn't mean to, it just happened! What am I supposed to say? I don't have an excuse this time! But… then again there were no witnesses—.

Forget it! Who'll believe me anyway?

Alright, Eric, calm down! This can be easily resolved, it's not like it hasn't happened _before_. But Jesus Christ, he's going to be pissed off when he wakes up. I am knee deep in horseshit right now. God dammit!

Alright, this won't be so bad… I'll take him over to my house, let him sleep on my bed and when he wakes up I'll most likely have an excuse made up… a—and then I can sugar coat it with some sort of snack or something. Yeah, that'll do it! Cartman, you are one genius bastard.

Alright, maybe I should stretch out before I pick him up.

No, I can't, someone might come by suddenly and see what I've done. Okay, on the count of three, I'll pick him up. Ugh, Jesus… this is going to be terrific.

_One, two, three_—!

…Huh, the Jew isn't has heavy as I expected. But what do you expect from a boring fag like him who sits around and only eats shit blessed by a… a… a rabbit? Whatever it's called…

I'm lucky enough to have socked this little asshole a mild distance from my house; otherwise, I'd be in a helluva lot of trouble. Only a few more steps and I'm home free for the time being.

I walk up my porch steps and find that the door's locked, but my mam's home, too. So which destiny shall I take today? Ring the doorbell or sneak through the back?

Hn, I think I've got just the excuse for my oblivious maternal half.

I ring the doorbell and wait only a few seconds to find her half-naked at the door. Of course I wouldn't have noticed the second car in the driveway.

"Oh, sweetie, what happened to your friend?" She asked in her unusually friendly voice, I just grumped at her, swinging the door open farther with my foot and trudged inside. "He ran into a pole, mam, now if you'll excuse me I need to put him to bed for a while. Don't want his mom worrying a shitstorm in their house…"

I hurried my fat ass up the stairs and into my bedroom, slamming the door a little too eagerly and shuffling to make his limp body over to my bed. I practically throw him onto the twin-sized cot and cover him up with my russet comforter.

Fuck, dude. All we did was get into an argument like usual, I didn't expect we'd resort to fighting like our 8-year-old selves again. But there he fucking is knocked out on my bed. And I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty surprised that he wasn't the one to knock me out in the first place.

Backing up, I sit at my computer desk, eying the redhead as he "slept" soundly. He didn't have a scratch or a bruise on him, so maybe he hit his head on the way down from my blow. Twiddling my thumbs, I begin to count the minutes and now I can feel beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. I was totally in for it and partially deserved it, too.

Then again, it's the stupid Jew's fault for even acting like a pussy bitch in the first place! I mean, what's new with the little flamer? All he ever does is try to pick fights with me and I mean… I like it and all, but it gets annoying sometimes, too! I— If that makes sense.

Anyway, the asshole should be getting up soon so I better make him something that he'd be able to eat. I remember now having those cheap Top Ramen packages in my cupboard, I'll make a bowl of that and… and ugh, I'll give him some of my Cheesy Poofs, too… stupid fucking daywalker.

I haul my ass downstairs and start boiling the water to put in the preserved noodle shit and then the packet of seasoning. Pouring a rather small bowl of Cheesy Poofs, too, just so he might be at least slightly more grateful to me even though I knocked him unconscious.

I feel like a fucking housewife and that pisses me off! I want to go right back upstairs and punch the little fucker in the face right now, but—no. I can't do that. Not now… maybe later.

Finishing up this little snack, I make my way back upstairs and set the tray of miscellaneous foods on my computer desk so it's already awaiting him when he wakes up.

I waited. Nothing happened.

Guess I'll surf the web for a few more minutes. People don't stay knocked out too long now, do they? I'm not sure.

After about 10 or 15 minutes of surfing the web and looking at some Terrance and Phillip merchandise, I notice that I've pretty much eaten all the Cheesy Poofs. Ah well, bitch doesn't deserve 'em anyway.

And then I notice a rustling of the bed sheets. Oh Jesus Christ monkey balls, he's awake. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Trying to keep my 'cool composure', I turn towards the Daywalker and lean back dismissively in my computer chair, arms crossed and waiting for the redhead's little faggoty tirade.

He opens his eyes finally, adjusting his vision to the light and rubbing his head with a groan. He sits up and looks straight at me with a rather blank expression.

"So, Kahl…" I began with a sneer, "Guess Jews can't handle little punches, can they?" I smirk insensitively at the other when I notice a rather confused look on his face.

And then he asks me, "Who are you?"


End file.
